


Warrior’s Due

by Setcheti



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, Tonari no Totoro | My Neighbor Totoro (1988)
Genre: April Showers 2015, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Light Angst, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setcheti/pseuds/Setcheti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Greek gods may have forgotten their responsibilities, but they aren't the only gods who know Iolaus. Zeus is less than happy with the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warrior’s Due

**Author's Note:**

> The representations of Greek gods in this story are taken from the television series, and representations of Japanese folklore entities and such are taken from various anime series. Hiroshi got his name courtesy of a song from Pretty Sammy.

Iolaus made it halfway to the well before he had to stop and sit down – or rather, before he had to stop so he wouldn’t fall down.  “It’s just too hot,” he muttered into the sparse grass.  It wasn’t, and he knew it, but hearing the lie out loud made it easier for him to convince himself the problem was the weather and not him.  As long as he kept lying to himself, the fear that had become his constant companion stayed just barely manageable. 

The last time he’d pushed himself too hard and fallen down, it had taken him a day and a half to crawl back to his house.  That wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat, so frequent stops to rest had become part of his routine. 

He’d just closed his eyes for a minute – ‘just’ being relative to his perception and not the actual passage of time involved – when footsteps approaching startled him into awareness again.  There were boots approaching down the rough path that led to his house, so far from the main road into Thebes.  Iolaus squinted, trying to force blurry vision to sharpen without success.  The boots were connected to legs encased in loose black pants, and over the pants flowed a square-sleeved short jacket that wrapped obliquely around a slim waist with the help of a cloth sash tied in a neatly intricate knot.  The man wearing the jacket had long black hair pulled back from his face, and he looked young…and oddly familiar.  Iolaus gave up on squinting and instead started using the rock he’d been leaning against to try to push himself back to his feet.  “If you’re looking for Thebes,” he called out in as strong a voice as he could muster, “you’re headed down the wrong path, stranger.” 

“I am where I chose to be,” the stranger who wasn’t said, drawing nearer with a quickened pace as though thinking to help the older man.  When he saw that Iolaus had already gained his feet, he stopped and bowed.  “Iolaus, my friend, it is good to see you again.” 

That accent…he hadn’t heard it in years, decades even.  Not since he’d been to the East, on the futile quest to outrun his grief.  And he knew this man, remembered him from that time he had spent in the islands serving Master Odaki.  But back then they’d both been the same age, and this man standing smiling before him was still as young as the day they’d met.  “Hiroshi?  But how…” 

“I feared you might not recognize me, as my heritage has granted me a life extended beyond that which is normal,” the young man explained.  He cocked his head.  “You do remember my mother, do you not?” 

Now that she’d been mentioned, Iolaus was surprised he’d ever forgotten her; Hiroshi’s mother was an oni, a demon, but not the same sort of demon found around Greece.  Which obviously meant that Hiroshi… “So you’re…immortal?” 

“Master Odaki says to live forever may be my future, yes.  He also says he grows tired of my unchanging face, so he sends me to you until such time as he has forgotten me enough that I might seem new to him again.” 

Iolaus sank back against the rock again.  Their master had been an old man when he’d arrived on the island, and even older when he’d left it.  “Master Odaki is still alive?” 

“He is.”  Hiroshi smiled.  “He says he will not die until he finds someone who can run the Odaki-Ryu dojo as he would run it.”  His brown eyes twinkled.  “If that is the case, he may be more long-lived than I.” 

A strange sensation washed over Iolaus, and bubbled up out of his chest as a rusty laugh that caught him by surprise.  How long had it been since he’d laughed, really laughed?  He couldn’t remember, but it felt good to laugh now.  His mirth died quickly, though, as he thought over what Hiroshi had just said.  “Wait, he sent you to _stay_ with me?”  He thought with dismay of the house that lay behind him, of the badly-kept yard and the leaking, rotting roof he hadn’t been able to mend in years.  Shame overcame him.  “Hiroshi, I would be honored to have you in my home…but my house isn’t fit to welcome a goat into, much less an honored guest.  I…I’ve gotten old.  I can’t take care of things the way I’d like to any more.” 

“Our master received this news, that he did,” was the other man’s gentle answer.  “And he was much distressed by it.  If you will accept my aid, and his as sent through me, we may soon see things set right.”  He patted the bag that hung at his shoulder.  “Herbs I have from his own garden, and seeds for such vegetables as he thought would grow.  And he was exacting in his instructions as to how I might aid you in regaining your health and strength.” 

Iolaus blinked at him in disbelief, almost unable to take it all in.  He’d been alone for years, pretty much ever since he’d gotten too old to travel with Hercules any more.  For a while he’d supported himself by doing the odd blacksmithing job here and there and by trading the rabbits he snared for other things he needed, but eventually the battle damage caused by years of adventuring at his demigod friend’s side had caught up with him and such strenuous activities became impossible.  Just going to the stream for water was a major undertaking now, and what fish he could catch while he was there were carried back in the bucket in his water supply to provide meager sustenance for him until he was able to venture down to the stream again.  Hunting was out of the question.  And the leaks and drafts he wasn’t able to repair in his house saw to keeping him cold and sick a good deal of the time as well.  Lately, in fact, he’d taken to looking toward death as a welcome reprieve from the lonely, aching misery that was his old age. 

He didn’t say any of this, though.  “Why?” was all he asked.

“You served our master well and loyally, and so have his loyalty in return,” Hiroshi told him.  “He called on the gods and reminded them of your service as a noble warrior, and they said honor was your due.” 

Iolaus remembered the island gods, who were very unlike the ones he had been so very familiar with here in Greece once upon a time.  Once upon a very long time ago, that was.  The Greek gods hadn’t bothered with him in years, not since he’d stopped traveling with Hercules – not that he’d had much use for them even before that, or at least not for most of them.  The Nihon gods were a different story, though.  “They said that?” 

“They did.”  Hiroshi smiled and bowed again.  “You have earned better than what you now have, and so I am here.  Master Odaki says I am to serve you as I would serve him, for as long as you will have me.”  His eyes twinkled again as he shifted the bag to his other shoulder so he could offer Iolaus his arm to lean on.  “He believes that you too, in time, may grow tired of my face.” 

“Somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen.”  Iolaus smiled, really smiled, for the first time in he didn’t know how long, and accepted the offered arm and with it the offer of help from the friends he’d almost forgotten in the East.  Maybe he was dreaming, maybe he was even _dying_ right there beside the path – he didn’t really much care.  All he noticed was that as they walked slowly back up the path toward his house the sun looked brighter, the grass looked greener…and he didn’t feel afraid any more.  And that was enough for him. 

 

Ares was feeling in a particularly foul mood because of a war his meddling half-brother had stopped but he hadn’t been able to come up with a fitting place to vent his displeasure.  It had been so much easier when Hercules had been traveling with that little runt Iolaus… 

_Iolaus_.   Ares smiled wickedly.  He hadn’t thought about Iolaus in quite a while.  Oh, he’d sent Discord and Strife a few times to wilt the man’s garden or sabotage a trap…but since Hercules never came around they’d pretty much given up on it as a waste of effort.  Maybe he could scoop up the annoying mortal and dump him on Herc, forcing the hero to escort the old man back home?  It was worth a try – and he didn’t have anything better to do at the moment – so Ares slid down to Iolaus’ small homestead with a wicked smirk on his face… 

…And was bounced off of something when he got there, landing hard on his backside in the dirt.  “What in Hades…”  He climbed back to his feet and dusted off his leathers, then put out a cautious hand to find the obstruction; there seemed to be some sort of invisible shield around the area.  His searching fingers encountered it and surprisingly were able to pass through with minimal resistance, but he yanked his hand back out in alarm when he realized what was happening to it on the other side; for a moment his hand had felt strangely mortal.  He flexed his fingers, made a small fireball and tossed it at the shield. 

It bounced off. 

He prowled the circumference of the shield after none of the bolts of power he produced managed to get through.  Inside the invisible circle, he noticed, the grass seemed finer and healthier than it was outside.  A small portion of woodland was enclosed by it as well at one end, and he observed that rabbits and birds were unhindered by whatever force was keeping his power out.  Ares started to get worried.  No god he knew of had done this, but the creation of such a thing spoke of power, lots of it.  He called out an urgent summons to his father. 

Zeus appeared next to him immediately, but he didn’t look alarmed.  “Ah, I see you tried to pay a visit to Iolaus,” the king of the gods chuckled.  “Have a hard landing, son?” 

“Yes!  What is this, Father?  I know you didn’t do it…”  Ares touched his hand to the barrier, careful not to push through it again.  “It will let me through, but…” 

“But none of your power goes with you,” Zeus finished for him.  “That is because on the other side of that enclosure you are not a god.”  

Ares stared at him.  “That isn’t possible.” 

“It is,” Zeus told him calmly.  “Within that little enclosure a different pantheon holds sway and different rules apply.  If you want to go pay Iolaus a visit they aren’t going to stop you, but you’ll be visiting as just Ares and not the god of war.”  He cocked his head at his son.  “Upset with Hercules for stopping that war at Tychos, are you?  Planned to take it out on Iolaus somehow?” 

“Yes and no – yes, I’m upset and no, I know that taking things out on the runt to get to Hercules isn’t effective anymore.  I thought maybe I’d just dump the old man on him, force little brother to escort him home so he’d be out of my hair for a while.” 

“I see.  Well, I wouldn’t recommend trying it, son,” Zeus cautioned him with a smile, but there was a sad, almost guilty look in his eyes.  “Iolaus is under the protection of his own gods now, and I doubt they’d be very happy with you if you tried to harm him.” 

The war god’s mouth dropped open again.  “ _His_ gods?   What do you mean, _his_ gods?  He’s Greek, _we’re_ his gods!” 

“We _were_.”  This time Ares read his father’s expression more accurately; it reflected sadness, guilt…and disgust.  “Tell me, Ares, was Iolaus a good warrior?”  The muttered ‘unfortunately’ didn’t quite make him smile.  “How about as a hunter, was he good at that?  Was he a good lover?” 

Ares flushed.  “ _That_ I wouldn’t know about – but the hunting part, yeah, he was a credit to Artemis.  What difference does that make?” 

“A big one,” Zeus said gravely.  “Iolaus by rights came within the protective spheres of yourself, Artemis and Aphrodite, but all three of you abdicated on your responsibilities to him at about the same time Hercules did.”  The king of the gods sighed and shook his head.  “I’d thought better of Hercules, but he turned out just like the rest of you – short sighted and selfish.  He doesn’t think he’s selfish, of course, but self-righteous people never do.  Hercules turned his back on the man who was loyal beyond death to him in the name of righting the world’s wrongs, and the three of you ignored him once he wasn’t ‘important’ to you any more.”  A flash of anger appeared on Zeus’ face.  “He was a warrior, entitled to a warrior’s due when his time on the battlefields was over.” 

The war god’s mouth dropped open.  It was true, any honorable warrior who survived to old age was owed in return by Ares, and the same held true for woodsmen who remembered their duty to his sister Artemis.  The usual reward for those who’d pleased the goddess of love was a caring companion to warm their winter years.  Iolaus had had none of those things, not even a friend to help him mend his leaking roof or see to him when he was ill.  “Oh boy did we ever screw up,” Ares muttered, looking a little ashamed of himself.  “But how can we fix things if we can’t…” 

“You can’t fix things,” Zeus said sternly.  “Iolaus traveled in the East long ago, and he gained some allegiance to the gods of that land as well.  When word of what had happened reached his old master, that man petitioned his own gods on behalf of his former student and the gods responded; a debt of honor is not taken lightly in that part of the world.”  The king of the gods rested his own hand on the barrier lightly.  “Inside this protective sphere lies another world to us, even a different sun in the sky; the kamidana are the ones with power there.  See, there are two of them now – they’ve been watching and listening to us, I’m sure, and now they want us to know that.” 

Sure enough, Ares looked up and saw two women standing a little distance away, and he could tell immediately that they were part of the race of gods.  They looked young and were dressed in softly multicolored layered robes belted with wide sashes, clothing that he’d seen once or twice before and knew to be kimonos.  The layers and their long black hair blew softly in an invisible breeze, and their dark brown eyes were wise and watchful.  “Kamidana, you called them?” 

“Those two are Yanagi-kami, Willow goddesses,” Zeus answered.  “There’s another one in there that lives near the house, Sakura-kami, and there are some little forest ghosts and even a small Forest King back in that little corner of woods.” 

Ares looked surprised.  “You’ve been in there?”

“Of course – I haven’t forgotten _my_ responsibilities,” Zeus told him with a reproving scowl.  “I knew what this was as soon as I saw it and I knew it wasn’t any threat to us, but I was curious to see how they do things on the other side of the world.  One of the  Yanagi-kami showed me around – and let me tell you, son, those women are so chaste they make your sister Athena look wanton.  Sakura-kami came out to greet me as well and filled me in on the situation; they’re here to take care of Iolaus, and when he dies they’ll take him back home with them.  They even brought him a companion named Hiroshi, a half-god like Hercules who had been in service with the same master Iolaus was.  But Sakura-kami told me they don’t expect him to die for some time, although she made sure I knew that had they not intervened it’s possible he’d be on his deathbed now.” 

Ares cocked his head thoughtfully.  “And what did the runt have to say about it all?” 

“I didn’t see him,” Zeus said placidly.  “Seeing me would only remind him of Hercules…and I think the gods of Greece have hurt Iolaus enough.”  The last was said with a stern look directed at his son, and the god of war winced.  “As a matter of fact, I don’t think any of us need to be going inside this little embassy for at least five or six years; let the memories fade and the pain of betrayal along with them.” 

The two Yanagi-kami were suddenly right on the other side of the invisible barrier and looking at the two Greek gods intently.  “A kind thought, Zeus-san,” one of them said. 

“Your concern for Iola-san’s well-being is much appreciated,” said the other.  “Please, come with us.” 

Ares really didn’t want to go through the barrier, but his father’s strong hand on his arm didn’t give him any choice.  Once on the other side he sighed and grimaced.  “I’d almost forgotten how much I disliked being mortal.” 

“Then perhaps the reminder is timely,” Zeus replied sternly.  He bowed slightly to the two young goddesses, who bowed back.  “Lead on, lovely ladies.” 

Without hesitation the two goddesses turned and walked toward the woods and the two temporarily mortal gods trailed behind.  At the foot of a large tree they stopped and something big and furry came out to meet them, a creature just slightly larger than a bear with strong curved claws and intelligent black eyes.  It looked Zeus over and nodded at him, but it sniffed at Ares and made a disapproving noise.  “The Forest King,” Zeus murmured to his startled son.  

The two kamidana bowed to the creature and then one of them spoke softly to him in a melodious language.  He nodded and rumbled something that might have been a response, then nodded again to Zeus with a look that was distinctly approving.  And then he turned and waddled unhurriedly back into the woods.  “What was that all about?” Ares wanted to know. 

“I don’t speak the language either, son,” Zeus told him with a shrug.  “But I’m guessing they told him what I said and he liked it.” 

“As you say it, Zeus-san,” one of the young goddesses told him.  “He does not like this one,” she gestured gracefully at Ares, “but he says one who learns from his mistakes would be a most welcome visitor in his forest.” 

Ares was more than surprised when his proud, temperamental father took that without so much as a blink, and even more surprised at how he answered.  “Some are slow to learn, and the son takes after his father,” Zeus replied with a bow.  “I am honored by the Forest King’s invitation.  Will we go now to see Sakura-kami?” 

Both goddesses shook their heads.  “Sakura-kami does not like this one either, and will not permit him near Iolau-san’s home,” the second one said. 

“She knows he came to cause Iolau-san pain, and for only his own amusement,” the first goddess added.  “She does not wish to speak with one so dishonorable.  He was allowed inside because you accompany him, and that the Forest King might know of him.” 

“You may tell her I won’t be bringing him back,” Zeus assured her.  “And I intend to forbid my children to attempt to enter your domain for at least five years.” 

They both bowed again.  “It is well, Zeus-san.  Perhaps in such a span of mortal time, Iolau-san may wish to see those he has known once again.  Old age often cries for the comfort of old friends.” 

Zeus bowed back.  “I wouldn’t call them that, lovely ladies, but it is possible he may wish to see them again all the same.  We will be leaving now.” 

They were suddenly standing just beside the barrier again, and the two young goddesses were nowhere to be seen.  Ares all but jumped through the barrier, stretching with relief when he felt his godhood snap back into place.  “I just _hate_ being mortal.” 

“I’ll have to remember that.”  Zeus had strolled back through just as unruffled as he had the first time, and taking his son’s arm he whisked them a few miles away.  “I have to go make sure the word gets out about my decision, but I want you to tell Hercules in person.”  He smiled, not in a nice way.  “It seems the two of you have something in common now, go on and share it with him.”  He gave a push, and Ares found himself already halfway to Tychos, his father’s final words echoing behind him.  “Maybe you can learn from each other’s mistakes.” 

Once Ares got control of himself back, he zeroed in on Hercules.  His demigod half-brother was doing something mundane with a lot of villagers just outside of Tychos, so Ares zipped back to Olympus and checked on a few things, careful to stay out of his father’s way.  He was back the next day, hanging around invisibly until the demigod finally pried himself out of the village, and as soon as Ares was certain they wouldn’t be disturbed he appeared right in front of Hercules, startling him.  “Hello, little brother.” 

The demigod raised an eyebrow; uncharacteristic for Ares, the greeting had been casual and not sarcastic.  “Ares.  What do you want?” 

“We need to talk,” the god of War replied seriously.  “It’s about Iolaus.” 

Hercules scowled.  “What have you done to him…”

“Whoa, there,” Ares interrupted, holding up his hand.  “No one’s done anything to him, he’s fine – better than fine, even.  But some things have…changed, and you need to know about them.  Zeus decided I was the right person to talk to you.” 

The eyebrow went up again.  “Oh, this I can’t wait to hear.  Zeus sent _you_ to talk to _me_.” 

“Be glad he did.”  The war god plopped down on the nearest rock and waited until Hercules had done the same before he spoke again.  “I tried to pay Iolaus a visit yesterday – I was still steamed at you over this Tychos thing, thought I’d dump him on you and make you haul him all the way back home.”  He rolled his eyes when his half brother scowled.  “Oh please – he isn’t _here_ , is he?” 

Hercules wasn’t mollified.  “So where is he?” 

Ares sighed.  “Still at home, I never so much as laid eyes on him.”  He shifted a little.  “Something bounced me off when I tried to zip down there, knocked me flat on my ass.  I played around with it a little and it would let me through…but only if I left my godhood behind.  So I yelled for Zeus.” 

“And?”  Hercules wasn’t in the mood for dramatic pauses.  “What was it?  Is it something that will hurt Iolaus?” 

“Zeus didn’t make it, none of us did,” Ares told him.  “Some other gods did it, gods from the East.  They came to take care of the runt, apparently someone told them he wasn’t doing so well and they owed him one so here they are.” 

“Gods from the East owed him one?”  Hercules didn’t like the sound of that.  He started to pace.  “He’s never really talked about what he did when he left Greece that time, just said he learned some things.  I figured he couldn’t have been doing much more than just wandering around, so I never asked him about it.” 

Ares pretended to think.  “Hmm, let’s see.  He takes off for a couple of years and comes back none the worse for wear, knows how to use his whole body as a weapon, meditates in a lotus position it hurts most people even to think about, and has so much control over himself that he can slow his breathing to almost nothing and stop himself from feeling pain.  Yeah, I guess there was nothing much different that you might have asked him about.” 

Hercules scowled at him.  “You make it sound like I just didn’t care enough to ask!” 

“You obviously didn’t.”  Ares gave him a long look and then shook his head.  “I always thought of you as being different from the rest of the gods, better even, but you aren’t,” the war god said.  “I hate to say it, but I’m actually disappointed.  Welcome to the family, Hercules, you really are one of us.” 

“I am _nothing_ like you, Ares,” the demigod snapped, marching over to loom over his still-seated half brother.  “As a matter of fact, it’s because I’m always cleaning up after the rest of you that I haven’t been with  Iolaus more.  There’s always one more battle, one more monster, one more mess caused by the gods, and I’m the only one around who can fix any of it!” 

Ares rolled his eyes.  “Only according to you, little brother, only according to you.  All those things were going on before you ever decided to take up the hero business.  So you take a few years off to take care of your dear old partner, what would it have been to you?” the god of war demanded with some disgust.  “You’re immortal, you wouldn’t have lost anything by staying with him – by giving back to him some of the loyalty he’d given you over the years.  But instead you ran off to do your own thing and left him there alone, left him without a backward glance because he couldn’t be of use to you anymore.  And if his own gods,” Ares smiled nastily at his half-brother’s flinch, “hadn’t stepped in and taken over, he’d have died alone by now just because no one cared what happened to him anymore.” 

“I cared,” Hercules muttered, running his fingers through his hair.  “I cared, but…” 

“No, you didn’t – caring doesn’t come with a ‘but’.  If you _had_ cared, there wouldn’t be a bubble around his place that has a whole different world in it.”  Ares snorted.  “New gods, a different sun in the sky, whatever in Hades that big furry thing in the woods is supposed to be – they even brought him a friend, a guy who trained with the same master Goldilocks did.”  He cut his eyes at Hercules.  “He’s a demigod too, or  close enough to it.” 

There wasn’t anything Hercules could say.  Finally he stopped pacing.  “I have to go…” 

“Guess again.”  Ares actually sounded sympathetic.  “Our father says none of us are allowed within spitting distance of that place for at least five  years.”  His half-brother started to say something, but an ominous rumble of thunder overhead cut him off.  “I wouldn’t, Hercules; he’s just as unhappy with you as he is with the rest of us.” 

Herc frowned.  “The rest of you?”

Ares nodded.  “Me, ‘Dite and Artemis – I’m still trying to figure out how Heph got out of this, the runt was a blacksmith too. But anyway, the four of us made the old man look pretty bad, pissing off our responsibilities like that to the point that another set of gods had to step in to take care of one of ours.  But he’s not one of ours anymore.”  The god of war actually sighed.  “He won’t even be going to Elysium when he dies, they’re taking him back with them.” 

Hercules sat down hard on the rock beside him, his legs having all but gone out from underneath him at that thought.  “He won’t be…” 

“Apparently not.”  Ares looked thoughtful.  “You know, none of us ever could figure out why the Fates took the runt’s wife and kid like they did, none of us had anything to do with it and the only explanation Atropos would give was that things had to be that way.”  He shot another sidelong look at his half-brother again.  “Oh wait, you wouldn’t know about that either, would you?  I don’t remember you being too concerned at the time, there would have been a stink on Olympus if you’d been pestering to have your little partner’s family returned…the way he pestered Zeus to return yours.” 

The demigod looked even more shocked, if that was possible.  “He…” 

“Even recall him offering himself in their place, but no one could take him up on it – the Fates wouldn’t let us, even when daddy dearest tried everything in his power to convince them.”  Ares smirked.  “Now let’s see, when his family died what did _you_ do?  Oh yeah, that’s right – you were off answering some cry for help someplace, weren’t you?  And when you got back you tried to go on like business as usual because you didn’t know what to say, and that’s when he left.” 

“And went East,” Hercules murmured.  “He never did tell me how he ended up in that part of the world, or even where exactly in the East he’d been.  He just didn’t talk about it…” 

“He might have if you’d _asked_ ,” the god of war snorted.  “But we’ve already had that conversation.  I probably know more than you do.  Zeus mentioned that Iolaus trained under a master while he was there and he also mentioned a debt of honor and that the runt had developed a little bit of allegiance to their gods – apparently that went both ways.”  He leveled a cool look at his half brother.  “Must have been one hell of a debt if they gave him three goddesses, a furry thing and a demigod all wrapped up in his own private little world to settle it.” 

Hercules’ eyebrows went up.  “Three goddesses?”

“Their kind, not ‘Dite’s kind,” Ares told him.  “They have more clothes in one outfit than our sister has in her whole wardrobe.” 

There was a pink sparkle and the goddess in question popped into being with her hands on her hips.  “Ex _squeeze_ me?   Do I hear mister ‘so last century’ black leather dissing _my_ fashion sense?” 

Ares wasn’t impressed.  “Oh please, like you wouldn’t paint them on if you could get away with it.  And I don’t remember inviting you to this conversation, Nosey.” 

‘Dite flounced down on a rock of her own and folded her arms across her barely-covered chest.  “Well, you should have – especially if you were going to talk about me.   Now what’s all this about Curly and some overdressed goddesses from somewhere horning in on _my_ territory?” 

The god of War rolled his eyes.  “Where have you been?” he asked, and then held up a staying hand when she opened her mouth.  “That was a rhetorical question, I don’t want to know.  And I don’t want to explain it to you; go ask Zeus and then you can come back.” 

“Well, if I’m not wanted…”  ‘Dite flashed out again in a cascade of swirling pink sparkles. 

Hercules raised an eyebrow.  “I thought you said he was mad at us?” 

“He is.”  Ares grinned wickedly.  “Serves her right for not paying attention, don’t you think?” 

He wasn’t just talking about the current situation, and Hercules had to agree with him; the goddess of love’s attention span left a lot to be desired.  Iolaus had been one of her favorite mortals once, which made her even more guilty than Ares.  “What about Artemis?  Does she know?” 

“She already knew, before I did.”  The god of War made a face.  “I tried to talk to her, but it was like pulling teeth and Athena ended up telling me most of it.  I guess when Artie noticed the bubble she went in there and tried to go head to head with the furry thing, she thought he was an animal.”  The face became a grimace.  “He’s not.” 

“Oh.”  Hercules didn’t really know what else to say.  He’d heard some hunters complaining that Artemis wasn’t answering them lately, but he hadn’t thought much about it.  Obviously, he hadn’t thought much about a lot more than that.  None of them had.  “So she’s…” 

“Pouting in her grove, yeah.  And when I went back up to Olympus yesterday, everyone was already walking on eggshells around the old man.”  Thunder rumbled, and from someplace not quite connected with the sky lightning flashed.  Ares tried to grin again and didn’t quite make it.  “With good reason, of course.  It’s not a good idea to piss off the king of the gods.” 

“I think Aphrodite just figured that out,” was Hercules’ reply.   They both sat there on the rock for a while, just thinking – and for Hercules, it was a train of thought he’d never really had before.  He’d never really worried about his father being angry with him, he’d never really _worried_ about his father at all.  But he didn’t feel that way now, not by a long shot; Zeus, his father, who just happened to be king of the gods, was angry with him.   Deservedly so, no less.

Hercules decided it wasn’t a feeling he liked.  Finally he ventured, “How long do you think he’ll stay mad?” 

Ares sat up slowly and gave him a disbelieving look.  “You are kidding, right?” 

 

Time passed, and although time means little to gods and immortals one god marked its passage at a certain place just outside of Thebes.  Ares had found himself fascinated by the bubble, and he sometimes prowled around it just to see if it was all still there – sometimes he even went into Thebes disguised as a wandering soldier to see if anyone in the city had noticed it.  No one had, but everyone in the market seemed to know Iolaus and Hiroshi; apparently they came into Thebes every week or two to trade. 

Ares never was in Thebes when they were.  It had been almost ten years, and Zeus was only just now starting to calm down about the whole ‘embassy of Eastern gods’ situation – ‘accidentally’ running into the former warrior wouldn’t have been looked on too kindly.  Aphrodite had tried it, and no one had seen her for a month afterwards. 

At least she’d tried, though.  Hercules never had; the demigod avoided Thebes like there was plague there, even after the first five years were up and he could have probably just strolled into the bubble for a visit without risking the Wrath of Daddy.  He’d never risked it, though. 

So Ares had decided that he was going to.  The god of war wasn’t stupid, he’d asked his father first and made sure he had permission to go in before he tried it, and even then he’d known that it was entirely possible the Eastern gods wouldn’t let him see the former warrior who lived inside its protective boundaries. 

They did.  He walked through the barrier and immediately some little white bobbling things started popping in and out behind the trees, twisting their bony eyeless heads around in impossible ways to look at him and making a sound like doves cooing underwater.  Then the furry thing came out.  He waddled right up to Ares and sniffed, made a thoughtful little rumbling noise in his throat, and then gestured on up the path…toward the house. 

Ares didn’t hang around to see if the thing would change its mind, but he did bow the way his father had done and to his surprise the furry thing bowed back before waddling away, scattering the little white cooing things in its wake.  He decided he didn’t want to know what those were either, but he suspected they were the ghosts his father had mentioned living in the woods. 

A young man obviously of Eastern descent met him halfway up the path and bowed deeply.  “Ares-san, it is our pleasure to welcome you, it is,” he said.  “If you would come with me, Iolaus is at the house and would doubtless be pleased to welcome you himself.” 

Ares returned the bow and improvised.  “It is a pleasure to be welcomed into your domain, Hiroshi, right?” 

“I am he.”  The young man fell into step beside him and they started toward the house, and it was only then that Ares noticed something following Hiroshi.  It could only have been another goddess; unlike the two he’d met before, though, this one didn’t bother to touch the ground or make herself fully solid, and a clean, flowery scent wafted around her in the same invisible breeze that tugged at her diaphanous pink and white robes.  Hiroshi saw him looking and smiled.  “Sakura-kami,” he explained.  “She let me know of your arrival and saw fit to accompany me to meet you.” 

“I’m honored.”  Ares meant it, too.  Something about the beautiful black-haired goddess impressed him with her divinity the way all the pink-sparkled materializations in the world couldn’t do for his sister, the goddess of love.  “I wasn’t sure you’d let me come see him.” 

“The years have been long, but good,” Hiroshi told him.  “And my friend can now think of his adventures in your land of Greece with not so much pain as he once had.”  He slanted a look sideways at the war god.  “And we have known you have been watching through these years, Ares-san, yet you never once attempted to cross the barrier, even that barrier set by your own conscience.  The Forest King has watched you watch us, and he is pleased with your restraint.” 

“The son learned from his father,” was Ares’ reply, turning around his father’s words from ten years back.  Zeus had been riding herd on his offspring’s antics a lot more in the past decade than he had in the past, expunging his own guilt for what had happened.  “So the r…so Iolaus is well?” 

“He is.  You will see for yourself.”  The path had widened, and Hiroshi waved a hand at the house they were quickly approaching.  “I will go ahead and tell him you are here, and I will bring us out some tea, yes?  Make yourself at home, Iolaus will be out so soon as I have roused him.” 

By that Ares took him to mean that he needed to wake Iolaus up and nodded, repressing a grimace at this matter-of-fact example of how old the former warrior really was in mortal years.  He’d wondered a few times recently why Hercules had never petitioned Zeus to make his little partner immortal, but that wasn’t something he was going to ask Iolaus about.  And instead of thinking about it any more, he looked around the green spring garden Hiroshi had left him in. 

Ares had seen Iolaus’ home before on occasion, usually not a pleasant one, and it had always impressed him as sort of a dump, just a place the hunter slept in when he wasn’t out tagging around with Hercules.  Not so any more.  The house and gardens that had always looked more than a little run down weren’t run down now; everything was neat and clean and well cared for.  The gardens were bright and flourishing, plants healthy and already displaying the signs of a bountiful harvest to come.  And when the house’s owner came out, he looked like an entirely different person from the one Ares last remembered seeing.  The former Argonaut and companion of Hercules had looked every inch a broken-down old warrior then, but now he seemed more like simply an aging hunter, still agile and strong and only gracefully and gradually giving in to the passing years.  Blue eyes narrowed, squinting, and then the man’s face broke into a surprised smile.  “Ares?  Is that really you?” 

“In the flesh – mortal flesh, at the moment.”  Ares hesitated a moment before holding out his hand, but Iolaus took his arm in a warrior’s clasp without so much as blinking.  “You’re looking well.” 

Iolaus shrugged.  “I try to keep active.  So are you just here for a visit?” 

“Yeah, pretty much.  I thought I’d drop by and see how the other half lives.”  He sat down on the bench his host indicated and took another look around.  “Nice place you’ve got here.” 

“I like it.”  Iolaus had a chair to sit in, one with thin cushions covered in exotically patterned fabric, and he leaned back in it with a sigh.  “So what are you really here for, Ares?” 

This time it was the war god who shrugged.  “I already told you.  I’d only been in here once, I wanted to see it again.  And I’d been wondering how you were doing.” 

Iolaus appeared to think about that for a minute, and then he smiled.  “So you can’t see into here, huh?” 

“Nope.”  Ares wasn’t going to lie.  “It’s kind of weird to have this big…space going on right in the middle of everything that isn’t part of Greece, you know?  I was curious.” 

“I can see where you would be.”  The blue eyes crinkled with amusement.  “You certainly weren’t the person I’d have expected to give in to his curiosity, though.”  He saw the look Ares shot him and shook his head.  “No, I didn’t expect Herc to ever show up – not after he’d been gone a few years, anyway.  He’s really good at distracting himself with other people’s problems, you know?” 

Ares snorted.  “If that’s a nice way of saying little brother is a coward, you got it in one – emotionally, not the other way,” he amended quickly, before Iolaus could protest. 

To his surprise, though, the other man just shrugged again as though it was something he’d thought over and dismissed a long time ago.  Which was exactly what he’d done, long before Hiroshi had first appeared on the path leading to his then falling down house.  Iolaus had known that Hercules would never come back unless he had to, and he’d accepted that over the years.  “No, no one could ever accuse Herc of being afraid of monsters,” he said, and then he winked.  “I was kind of disappointed that your sister never popped in to see me, though.” 

Hiroshi reappeared just then, bearing a laquered tray on which sat three small porcelain cups and an equally small teapot, and he poured out a measure of steaming pale green liquid for each of them before taking a seat of his own.   “You should be glad she didn’t,” Ares snorted.  “You’re a little long in the tooth for her, but this one here would never know what hit him.” 

Hiroshi laughed and so did Iolaus.  “You might be surprised,” the hunter told him, taking a sip of his tea.  “Hiroshi’s mother was an oni, he’s not nearly as innocent as he looks.” 

“Neither, my friend, are you,” Hiroshi responded with a sly smile.  “I believe the term our master used in his last message was ‘dirty old man’?” 

“At least I have the decency to _look_ like an old man, unlike some people I know.”   Another sip of tea.  “That potter’s girl at the market is young enough to be your granddaughter.” 

Ares raised an eyebrow.  “You mean the blonde who swishes when she walks?”  He smiled into his tea when the other two men looked surprised.  “I don’t show my age either – and she’s nowhere near as virginal as she acts in front of Daddy.” 

“No, that she is not.”  Hiroshi was grinning now, and Iolaus was too even though he was shaking his head in mock-disapproval.  “But could not a deceit that goes both ways produce something like to a truth?” 

“You’d better hope it doesn’t produce a little half-oni with your eyes,” Iolaus warned him.  “It’s not like you’d be able to say it was anyone else’s.” 

“And I would not try.”  The younger-appearing man did not appear bothered by the idea in the least.  “You could pass along your ‘old hunter’s tricks’ to the child, and I could teach him the way of the honorable warrior.  And the Forest King would be very glad to play with him.” 

“He would, he just loves kids,” Iolaus told a startled Ares.  He cocked an eyebrow of his own.  “You knew he wasn’t an animal, right?” 

“Yeah, I knew.”  Ares drained the small cup and put it down.  “I hear Artie found out the hard way, though.” 

Hiroshi refilled his cup, and the war god thanked him with a nod.  “That was a very amusing encounter, it was – for the Forest King, not your huntress.  He laughed so loudly he shook the trees.” 

“He was _laughing_?”  Ares started to laugh himself.  “Oh I’ve got to remember that.  Artie told Athena he _roared_ at her and would have probably eaten her if she hadn’t run back through the barrier.” 

Iolaus leaned forward in his chair so Hiroshi could refill his own empty cup, chuckling.  “He doesn’t eat meat, luckily.  As big as he is, I don’t think there’d be a rabbit for miles if he did.” 

“Most likely not.”  Hiroshi made himself more comfortable.  “Ares-san, I understand you are the god here of warriors.  Iolaus has told me of your methods for training, your Spartans seem in many ways to be very much like our samurai.” 

Ares was proud of his Spartans, and Iolaus had fought alongside them, so the resulting discussion went on for most of the rest of the afternoon and ended up with Ares and Hiroshi comparing fighting techniques while Iolaus sat in his chair drinking tea and making comparisons.  Ares ended up staying for supper, and left reluctantly when Iolaus started to fall asleep not long after nightfall.  Hiroshi walked the war god to the barrier in the gathering darkness, a companionable silence between them, and bowed deeply when they stopped.  “Your visit was most welcome, Ares-san.  Iolaus was glad of your company.  I hope you will visit us again.” 

“I’d like that.  This was…fun.”  Ares smiled, thinking of the reaction that statement would get from most of the people who knew him.  He returned the bow with one of his own.  “Thank you for making me welcome, Hiroshi.  I’ll be seeing you again.” 

He stepped through the barrier, re-embraced his godhood and whisked himself across Greece to the top of a rocky outcropping.  Zeus was there, leaning on a staff carved with lightning bolts as he watched what was going on in the valley below, and he raised an inquiring eyebrow when his son popped into view.  Ares sat down with a sigh.  “You were right.” 

“I’ve learned from my mistakes.”  The king of the gods smiled at him.  “And you’ve learned from yours, son.  I’m proud of you.” 

“He really is a great little mortal, once you get to know him,” Ares said.  He was watching the valley too.  “And that Hiroshi is something else.”  He smirked.  “We have the same taste in women.” 

“Ah yes, the potter’s daughter.”  Zeus chuckled at his son’s disgusted look.  “Oh come now, Ares, I’ve never denied being a dirty old man.” 

Ares had to smile.  “No, you haven’t.  So what about...” 

Zeus waved one hand out over the valley…and although nothing visibly happened, Ares sat up a little straighter with a surprised look on his face.  “I’m not proud of Hercules,” the king of the gods said tiredly.  “And his mother would be ashamed of him, if she could see what he’s become.  He doesn’t want to go anywhere near Thebes, so be it; he’ll never be able to approach it again.  The day he comes to me and asks for my help to visit Iolaus, maybe I’ll let him find that part of Greece again.  But if he’s ever going to go there again, it’s not going to be by accident or because of his ‘duties’ to humanity.” 

The war god looked back down, wondering how long it would take his oblivious half brother to figure it out.  “What if Iolaus is dead before little brother comes to his senses?” 

Zeus shrugged.  “Then he’ll learn the hard way, won’t he?” 

Ares sat there for a minute after his father disappeared, watching Hercules far below as the demigod moved among the people he’d just helped with whatever it was he’d found to distract himself this time.  The god of war stood up and shook his head.  “It’ll be the hard way, I guarantee it,” he told no one in particular.  And then he too disappeared.


End file.
